


BFFS

by manicr



Category: Dark Avengers (Comic), Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Assassination, Brotp, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicr/pseuds/manicr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: attention seeking Deadpool and a very unnerved Bullseye who falls victim to Deadpool’s desperate need to talk to someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BFFS

  
“How did  _you_  get this line?” Bullseye hissed into his ear piece as a familiar voice spoke to him.  
  
“I have my mysterious ways, pal,” Deadpool said, “By the by, your mark is moving. I recommend that you take him out so we can chat - just us girls.” He was right; the congressman had just finished his early morning swim and put on his robe.  
  
“You’re watching me? Talk about stalking, Wilson,” Bullseye snapped and took the long range shot of his mark. The congressman’s head snapped back and he fell back in the pool, the water colored pink and red. Target down; time to go. Bullseye disassembled the rifle in the duffle bag he had ready; he was out of the room in less than three minutes.  
  
“It’s not stalking when I call you,” Deadpool countered, “Take a right and wait there for a minute before you move,” he added and Bullseye obeyed. It was a habitual thing, he'd worked enough with the Merc with the Mouth to know that when it came to the job he was a pro. Two men passed him by and neither took any notice of him.  
  
“As I was saying, we need to talk,” he repeated in an ominous voice.  
  
“What the hell are you dragging me into?” Bullseye hissed under his breath and hurried along out of the building. He was a couple of blocks away from the now dead congressman, but that wouldn’t mean shit if he didn’t move quickly.  
  
“A most calamitous affair,” Deadpool said in the same voice. Bullseye half expected thunder crashes and tense music - actually, he was surprised that Deadpool hadn’t recorded such for the occasion. It was a part of the background ambiance that you got used to from Wilson. It was nearly disappointing.  
  
“I swear if it has anything to do with you and indecent exposure, I _will_ castrate you and hang you by your intestines from a lamp post,” Bullseye threatened, pulling down his beanie over his scar and hunching down and pretending to fix the his shoelaces on his sneakers as he passed two police officers. They, with all likelihood, hadn’t gotten the word on the congressman yet and didn’t look at him twice.  
  
“Oh c’mon, that was once! No need to use the infamous melodrama voice, B.”  
  
“Once?! Try like ten.” Bullseye shuddered at the memory, moving on quickly, “and that’s without going into detail on you and women’s underwear.”  
  
“Details! Also, they make me look fabulous. This time it’s serious. We need to talk. Go to the Bar with no name.” Bullseye actually thought that he meant it.  
  
“Why should I go  _anywhere_? Wade—?” He demanded, but the line was dead. He was left with the choice to ignore Deadpool - and potentially end up in shit creek with no paddle - or hear him out at the Bar, and with all likelihood end up in shit creek. It was nearly always a no win situation with Wade. 

However, it _was_ always funny.   
  
Bullseye swallowed his unease and headed for the closest subway, cursing himself for his poor judgment.  He checked his account balance on his phone, the second payment had come in. He’d be set if he needed to leave the country in a hurry. He’d planned to leave anyhow, at least until the manhunt on the congressman’s killer died down a bit.  
  
Still, Bullseye hesitated and thought through what kind of catastrophe or madness Wade might drag him into as he took the subway, clutching his duffle-bag of incriminating evidence. The morning rush had just started - the drunkards replaced by tired commuters - and it was crowded enough to let him blend in without any effort. Just another pre-work gym bunny getting a ride to work.  


 

It was the first time in years Bullseye set foot in the Bar with no name. The place didn’t quite feel the same after the smoking ban and the renovations, but the Bar was still a place for those who didn’t see eye to eye with the law — especially those of the costumed super-villain variant. He fitted right once he removed his beanie to show off his scar. The few patrons present at this early hour, in their case probably very late hour, ignored him and shuffled away. No point in antagonizing a guy known for killing people regardless of who you were.  
  
“Now, what the hell was so important you hacked my _supposedly_ secure line and stalked me across town?” Bullseye spat at Deadpool, who was seated at a corner table with a few glasses of beer. He was also in his civvies, which in his case meant that nearly every inch of him was completely covered. Deadpool had a baseball cap pulled low and a scarf pulled high but Bullseye could still catch a part of his face — it felt strange.  He nearly  _never_  saw Wilson’s face, scars and all, even when they were running jobs together.  
  
“Aww, Bullcookie, where’s the love? Looking good though, been eating protein bars again? Honestly, I could bounce a nickel off you,” Deadpool cheered, smiling brightly, “Pull yourself a seat, let’s chat.”  
  
Bullseye grimaced and sat down, careful to angle himself that he had an overview of the bar and the exits. Deadpool had taken the best seat, figure that he would if he was in danger, and it left Bullseye with at least one dead angle. He didn’t like it. His nerves were already drawn too tight as it was without adding more to it.  
  
“Out with it,” he hissed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, imagining all the worst case scenarios that came to mind.  
  
“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine, buddy. Don’t worry, no one is looking for you about the congressman. Well, yet,” Deadpool said with a cock of his head and pushed a beer over the table. “Have a drink.”  
  
“Spill  - or it’s your intestines next.” Bullseye drank it down halfway.  
  
“What’s with the fixation with viscera? Okay okay, I’ll talk," Deadpool stated placatingly when Bullseye glared at him, and drank from his own glass. 

“I need your help.”  
  
“No,” Bullseye refused, “Nice talking to you, thanks for the beer.” He shifted in his seat but before he could leave, a gloved hand grabbed him by the arm.  
  
“Please,” Deadpool begged and held eye contact. He looked desperate even though it was a bit hard to read his mutilated face — it was all in the eyes. Bullseye hadn’t seen him like this in years. Last time it had ended up nasty — for other people. Real nasty come to think of it, it had been a massacre. Wade had taken his time and not spoken once during the entire thing.

“We’re not friends, Wilson. I don’t owe you shit,” Bullseye gritted, even though Wade was probably the closest to a friend he had.  
  
“I’ll pay you. But first, I’m asking you, B. Please,” Wade repeated and Bullseye sat down grudgingly. It was just for the cash, he told himself. Wade smiled, that same stupid, happy grin, and Bullseye hated him for it.

Wade smiled, that same stupid, happy grin, and Bullseye hated him for it.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“Thanks, pal. Some people need to die - and I can’t be in two places at once. Close but no cigar, if you know what I mean. Not the Freudian interpretation,” Deadpool explained, taking a swing from his glass.  
  
“A joint hit? I want extra.”  
  
“There might be some explosions and arson. Also, zombies—” Deadpool appended.  
  
“In  _advance_ ,” Bullseye corrected with a wince.   
  
“—possibly some superheroes—”  
  
“Add danger pay,” he sighed and drank deeply.  
  
“—and maybe some superheroines.”  
  
“Now,  _that_  I’ll do for free,” Bullseye said with a dirty grin as he finished his beer. 

Deadpool gave him a glance and an amused snort, mumbling something about closets and Narnia. It was anyone’s guess what was going on his scrambled brain, Bullseye didn't pay it much attention.  
  
“It’s a deal then. Your standard fees plus danger and extra in advance. Caymans, Swiss, or Luxembourg? You want it gift wrapped or to go?” Deadpool asked, referring to his multiple bank accounts, pulling out his smartphone.  
  
“None of the above. Gimme that,” Bullseye corrected and grabbed it as Wade offered it. Fiddling with it he transferred his temporary details - he had a rolling security - and the advance amount, offering it back to Deadpool to confirm the transaction with his code.  
  
“Done,” Deadpool stated, “You know, you’ve gotten really paranoid with old age, pal. Better start wearing the tinfoil hat.”  
  
“Better that than dead and unpaid,” Bullseye retorted, checking back once more on his account balance. It looked good.  
  
“True. Let’s have a bit more to drink and something to eat while we talk? I haven’t had breakfast.”  
  
“Sure, you’re paying after all,” Bullseye grinned, feeling far less bothered by whatever shit had hit the fan. He was on a job, it was as firm of a footing he’d ever been on. Besides, he deserved a nice slaughter and working with Wilson usually guaranteed it.  
  
Deadpool ordered them burgers and more beer, talking shit throughout about some crap about dead presidents, North Korean Weapon X and being possessed by a dead agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Not someone called Coulson (“who lives”) but a Big, Beautiful and Black Lady. Deadpool was very adamant on the lady bit and the capital letters. Also that he felt more in touch with his feminine self.  
  
As if that needed any more bolstering, Bullseye thought and got the unwanted mental imagine of Wade in a Marvel Girl costume. And then that time with the maid outfit. And the 60’s go-go boots ensemble with the blonde wig.   
  
Regardless, the food was better than expected and the beer abundant, Bullseye actually relaxed and forgot about his worries - for a while.  
  
“You remember that crap with the Identity Disc back in ’04?” Deadpool asked.  
  
“Sure. Hard to forget,” Bullseye replied and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Not many have the balls to pull that elaborate of a ruse — and running in there headlong? That was crazy - even by our standards. Why you ask?”  
  
“Just on the issue of shit we’ve pulled,” Deadpool said and shrugged, Bullseye narrowed his eyes and waited for him to elaborate. All his fears came crashing down again and he tensed automatically. Damn it. He’d forgotten to negotiate for full disclosure.  
  
“It’s been a long time, old friend, we’ve fought together as many-a-times as we’ve fought against each other. It’s been a fun run.” Deadpool laughed to himself.  
  
“If this is some kind of suicide gig—” Bullseye started, he knew that his fellow assassin was more than a few screws lose and had a mile wide self-destructive streak. He wasn’t about to take part in shit like that.  
  
“Nah. It ain’t, Bullwinkel. Just appreciating things. It’s been a while, that’s all,” Deadpool said with a mirthless smile. He stank of desperation and Bullseye thought of Greece back in ’98 when he’d willingly given Wade a hand with whatever shit he’d been working though.  
  
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he conceded, taking a sip of his beer.  They drank in silence.  
  
“What would you say about doing it over again? Going after the big boys I mean, raining unholy terror, and possibly hamsters, against unbeatable odds?” Deadpool asked, finally coming clear on where this conversation was going.  
  
“I’d say that I’d be more than earning my money and demand extra,” Bullseye grunted, sipping at his beer.  
  
“I am paying you extra, B,” Deadpool countered and mock glared. “What do you want? A standing ovation, half-naked cheerleaders and a chocolate jacuzzi?”  
  
“Fine. But you need to clue me in a bit more than that,” Bullseye conceded guardedly.  
  
“Not here, Rookie. We’ll go on a little trip on the magical school buss later. It’s not like you wanna be in the city anyhow,” Deadpool grinned and finished his food and beer.  
  
“I can handle myself, Wilson,” Bullseye spat. Deadpool patted him on shoulder.  
  
“Get suited up, Rookie. See you in two hours at Max’s,” he told him and pulled his cap down low, leaving the bar. Max’s was a private joint, not too far away from a private air strip, they’d used it before as a rendezvous point. So, the mission  _really_  would be out of town — way out.  
  
What the  _hell_  was he getting himself into?  


 

Bullseye didn’t feel any better two hours later sitting in the private jet opposite Deadpool.  
  
“When the heck did you get this much cash?” Bullseye asked and poured himself a drink from the complimentary tiny bottles of Jack Daniel’s.  
  
“Here and there. Some of it is yours actually by way of a submarine, gold doubloons and space pirates,” Deadpool told him. 

“I had a phase, it makes sense in context,” he added as an afterthought when Bullseye gave him an incredulous stare.  
  
“As long as your good for my fee,” Bullseye remarked, “Where are we going?”  
  
“Canada. Flushing out the rest of Butler’s and department H’s old crew involved in Weapon Project. As I said, I had some… dealings with them in North Korea. I won’t let that happen again,” Wilson explained and Bullseye did remember North Korea coming up in the discussion. He’d gotten rather distracted by the whole cross-dressing thing. Oh god, now he felt dirty just thinking about it. It didn't get better knowing that Wilson really _did_ have the body for it, all 6'2" and 210 lbs of him. Or the fact that he always wore matching underwear to whatever outfit had taken his fancy.   
  
“Where do you want me?” Bullseye blurted out instead.  
  
“Eager. I’ll get to that,” Deadpool laughed and pulled a map from his bag, “I’ll be here. I want you in position -- here,” he said and pointed at the two buildings. “I’m pretty sure I can flush them out, but I need you to take out everyone who think of trying to run. This will be a wet work, B, one of the reasons I wanted you in. No hesitation, regret or guilt. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.”    
  
“My kind of work,” Bullseye agreed. Still, it wasn’t really in style with what Wilson had been getting up to lately, not heroic enough. Then again, he’d been taking this badly. It was personal, Bullseye could behind get that.  
  
“I know, B — I’m counting on it. I want you to kill every single one of them. No survivors,” Deadpool intoned and stared at him, and, for a moment, Bullseye remembered why Wade Wilson could scare the shit out of him when he wanted to. He didn’t cringe or let it show, but he knew that look and he was happy that the sentiment wasn’t directed at him.  
  
“No problem. I’m magic.”  
  
“I know you are. No fancy stuff, however. We don’t have the time for you to play artiste, sunshine,” Deadpool teased and went about explaining the layout, the guard routines and expected resistance. It was all very routine. Even a bit low key. Then again, the place was supposed to be just a periphery department of an underfunded project, even if it was just a cover they couldn’t have a bunch of military hanging around. Deadpool had been thorough in his recon, they had details about everything you could want. The result was that the secure perimeter wasn’t that secure and slinking past in would be child’s play.  
  
It had been a while since they did a gig together, Bullseye had forgotten how much of a consummate professional Wade could be. Most people did, the talking and the crazy kinda ruined his rep as a damn good merc. Evidently, his trip to North Korea had sobered him up a bit. Perhaps it would be such a shit thing to be seen working with him.  
  
“You got an exit strategy? The border control is through and it will tighten after we take out an entire scientific military base,” Bullseye asked, hoping that Wilson had intended for them to escape Canada alive and in one piece.   
  
“I got it set. I have a contact. Trust me, it’s best you don’t know the details,” Deadpool told him and, against better judgment, Bullseye did. He wondered why he did this to himself time after time, telling himself that perhaps it was time to do what he usually did when paired up with idiots: get rid of the idiot.  
  
“You got everything you need, B? We clear?” Deadpool asked, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
“I’m good to go. We separate, get past the perimeter and I hunker down and kill anything coming my way. Once my position by the exit of the main building is compromised I move to my secondary position by the secondary building due south. We regroup and exit,” Bullseye affirmed, adjusting the new earpiece under his cowl to hide his doubts and nervousness.  
  
“Peachy keen. Then we’re soon off. Here, put this on,” Deadpool said and threw him a parachute. “We’ll jump soon. It’ll be a short trek, just a few clicks. You know the layout, keep north by north-east.”  
  
“And you tell me this now?” Bullseye whined and put the backpack, shifting his weapons to allow for mobility.  
  
“No time like the present, Rookie. Gotta roll with the punches,” Deadpool grinned and waited for the signal from the pilot, he pulled the door. They were flying relatively low so it’d be a tight jump.  
  
“Geronimo!” Wilson cheered and made the jump.  
  
“Oh, hell.” Bullseye sighed, resigning to his fate, and went after him. He counted the seconds, waiting as long as he dared before pulling his parachute. The sharp pull up and winds nearly pulled him too far away from the drop site, but he managed to maneuver into position. His landing was rough, but he avoided crashing into any trees and the parachute didn't rip or get tangled.  
  
“I’m down. Position?”  
  
“Two o’clock from you, due north. You know what to do. Radio silence unless FUBAR. Bald Eagle OUT.” Bullseye scoffed at the code name.  

It was early autumn and the chill had yet to set in, but it wasn't pleasant for Bullseye to sneak past the perimeter and lie in the cold ground, waiting for Deadpool to do his part of the job. He had waited for nearly an hour before the screaming began.  
  
M40 rifle at the ready, Bullseye targeted the scientists as they escaped through the hidden back door. He needed to wait long enough to draw as many as possible out before taking them out. Five men and women were in the open when he took his first shot. The first hadn't even hit the ground before he shot the second one. A sixth man came out just as he took his third shot. He took the ones by the door next  - four, five - and waited for the last woman who ran over the open ground to get really scared. She went down with a scream.  
  
Soldiers were heading towards the site, they’d heard the shots and the screaming. More targets, Bullseye thought with a grin and took down four - one with each remaining bullet. The soldiers retreated and regrouped; he took the opportunity to reload. He’d need to shift to his secondary position before Deadpool was done inside and clean house while he was at it. It was a pity he couldn't take part in the carnage that was undoubtedly happening inside.  
  
The following fifteen minutes or so disappeared into a blur of running and shooting, Bullseye lost count of how many he killed. Especially, after he ditched the rifle and went more close quarters. He needed to be fast and efficient; it was a race against the clock and whatever reinforcements might come.  
  
He rejoined forces with Deadpool after the main building was set alight and then exploded. Deadpool pointedly not look at the explosion, but calmly walked away from it. And he had the gall to call Bullseye melodramatic.   
  
“At least there are no zombies."  
  
“I took care of those with the explosion.” Bullseye had no idea if he was being serious.  
  
“We done?” The entire op had been cleaner than he had expected, a smooth deal and on time as well. Who would have figured?  
  
“Nearly, give it a moment,” Deadpool replied and shot a soldier in the head. The second building exploded. “Now, we’re done.”  
  
“Now that all this shit is over, could you at least tell me what it was all about?  And don’t try to feed me some BS, I know you had something more in mind when you dragged me along,” Bullseye asked, wiping the dirt and sweat of his brow.  
  
Deadpool removed his mask once more, spat on the ground and gave his old friend a meaningful glance. “It’s my birthday,” he said and looked down back at the burning buildings.  
  
“What?”  
  
“At least I think it is. I found some old Weapon X paperwork on me, it had my date of birth on it and everything. Burned it, of course. But yeah, happy birthday to me,” Deadpool continued in a low voice devoid of any emotion.   
  
“Now what does that have to do with me and all of this?”   
  
“I didn't feel like being alone,” Deadpool shrugged and Bullseye stared quietly at him.  
  
“You’re a complete asshole, you know that? ”Bullseye finally said and his eyes locked at the burning buildings and the dead bodies.

“Happy fucking birthday, Wade.”  
  
“Thanks, Rookie.”  
  
“You still owe me.”  
  
“Yeah, I do.” Wade agreed with another smile. “Let’s have a drink.”  
  
“Why not,” Bullseye concurred, “Just get us the heck outta here. I’m freezing my balls off.”  
  
“So, now it’s just to get us arrested,” Deadpool said cheerily and pulled a phone from one of his multiple pouches.  
  
“ _WHAT_?!” Bullseye screeched and barely withheld himself from violence.  
  
“Roll with it!” Wade encouraged him and grinned.  
  
“I hate you.”  
  
“Love you too, sunshine.”


End file.
